


Undeniable Something

by midnightofthesoul



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5127989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightofthesoul/pseuds/midnightofthesoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Time is only wasting so why wait for eventually?"</p><p>Or... how Maria and Steve come to the threshold of something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undeniable Something

The first time Steve even considers it — _her_ , is a day like any other. He and Maria have become easy working partners, a relationship built on respect and trust, long missions and dangerous situations. She listens to his suggestions, incorporates his perspective into her overall plans, while he relies upon her fully to get him and more importantly, his team, home safely.

He’s worked with her through the Battle of New York, the fall of SHIELD, the return of Fury and the resurrection of Coulson. They’ve politely disagreed, they’ve passionately argued, they’ve laughed, and they’ve traded confidences (him freely, her begrudgingly). Ever since he ordered her to destroy the Helicarriers with him aboard, they’ve also shared a type of reckless disregard with their own mortality.

It’s late, they’re in her office, and she’s reviewing mission reports while he compiles updates of Bucky’s whereabouts. Plenty of people have told him he’s wasting his time, that it’s useless, but not Maria. Then again, he’s never asked her either.

Movement from the corner of his eye draws his attention to Maria as she leans back in her chair in a near feline fashion, stretching up to the ceiling as only one who’s been working too long can do. He can hear the vertebrae in her neck pop as she works her head and shoulders, letting out a haggard sigh.

“It’s late," Steve notes, "maybe we should pick up again tomorrow?”

She glances up at him then back to the stack of reports on her desk. Her mouth poses to disagree until she sees the look of determination on his face. She replies with a shrug and rueful smile. Minutes later, he’s collecting her coat as she powers down her computer. 

When she rounds her desk, he holds out her coat as she slides her arms inside, lifting her hair to the side as he settles it on her shoulders. He inhales the scent of her hair and the waning citrus of her perfume and thinks… thinks that he’d like to rest there just at the curve of her neck, warm and smooth.

When he doesn’t move, she turns to him with an expectant look on her face as she quirks an eyebrow. 

“Ready?” her voice is soft and a little scratchy from lack of use. She doesn’t take a step back, nor does she seem bothered by their close proximity. 

Merely nodding in response, she turns and leads the way out of her office, securing the door behind them with various security measures. The ride down the elevator is quiet, his thoughts roaming over the puzzle of a woman beside him, while she stands silently, not one for speaking when she has nothing to say. 

He escorts her through the garage, not because she needs him to, but because his motorcycle is parked just past her car and it makes sense. He can feel her curious gaze on him as they reach her car, but he doesn’t know what to say or how to look, so he stares ahead blankly.

“You okay?”

He doesn’t try to lie to her when she opens her door, just glances around at the bright garage and the smattering of cars still around, shrugging. “Yeah. Just… thinking. No big deal.”

She continues to scrutinize him, piercing blue eyes cataloguing everything in his expression. Though she may not like what’s written over his face, she simply nods, leaving him to his thoughts.

“Have a good night, Steve. See you in the morning.”

Steve ducks his head, closing the door once she’s fully inside and turns to his motorcycle not far away. When he mounts his bike, he waits until he’s fully alone before letting out a long breath, frustrated and heavy.

“Why her? Why now?”

 

.::.

 

She’s sitting on the counter in the Avengers common area kitchen, dressed in workout gear and waiting for Pepper to emerge from the floors she keeps with Tony. Usually Maria would meet Pepper in the gym, but she had to drop off documents for the team to sign so she figured she might as well take advantage of their stocked refrigerator.

Thumbing through emails on her phone, she glances up when a bed-rumpled Steve pads barefoot into the space, half awake as he exchanges a drowsy smile with her. He pulls a bottle of water out of the fridge and downs it quickly, then pulls out a large bowl of fruit. Within minutes he’s assembled all the components of a smoothie. When he looks up at her expectantly, she quirks her head in confusion until she realizes she’s sitting in front of the cabinet with the glasses and is about to slide off when he places a hand on her thigh to stay her.

“Don’t move,” he says quietly, voice still gritty with sleep. She looks from his hand, still resting lightly on her thigh to his eyes which are fixed on a glass that he’s reaching out of the cabinet, deftly avoiding her upper body. “Want one?”

She takes an embarrassingly long time to figure out what he’s talking about. Shaking her head in absence of words, he shrugs, then steps away.

Maria hates the way the loss of his hand makes her shiver. Fortunately he misses it as he returns to the island and puts his ingredients into the blender and presses the button, a jolting noise filling the silence.

She exhales in the chaos, thankful for the distraction as she returns to her phone. Once he’s finished making his smoothie, Steve rinses off everything in the sink then walks in front of her and sets his utensils on the counter beside her. Before she can even figure out what he’s doing, he’s placed his hands on her hips and slid her over two feet, opening the dishwasher to put away his dishes.

He steps over and places his hands on her hips again to move her back but she places her free hand on his chest, halting him. “I think I’ve got it from here, Captain.”

The use of his title would be much more effective if her voice didn’t sound so raw and his hands weren’t still on her hips. The corner of his lip tugs upward as she drops her hand to her lap, his head tilting to the side. Her eyes drift over the planes and curves of his face, the smattering of freckles and the blueness of his eyes.

Huh. Would it really be unthinkable? Impossible?

Only the sound of Pepper’s tennis-shoe clad feet draws them apart.

 

.::.

 

He’s in a mood. He knows he’s in a mood, but he can’t help it. 

Being at a celebration is doing very little to help his poor spirits. And still, he smiles, he chats with his teammates, and shakes hands with all the guests.

Sam can tell something is up, asks him as much, but Steve doesn’t know how to reply. _What makes you happy?_

He scans the room, eyes lighting on his team members, friends, co-workers… a beautiful woman in a red dress and… and he just doesn’t know.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, tries not to sound hollow, but feels it. Before Sam can reply, a couple lovely women walk up and start chatting with them. Sam, much more jovial, manages to keep them occupied long enough for Colonel Rhodes to wander over and share a couple War Machine stories. 

Feeling the desperate need to remove himself from the cloying atmosphere of too-sweet perfume and vapid small talk, he makes his way outside. Taking in a deep breath, he shoves his hands in his pockets and wanders to the railing where he leans over and watches the humans far below, scurrying about like ants.

It’s not until he hears an exhale that he realizes he isn’t alone. Fearing it’s one of the women who was speaking with him earlier, he prepares to make some weak excuse to get back inside. Instead, when he rounds the corner of the balcony, he’s surprised to find Maria outside, her pose mirroring his previous one. Silently he sidles up beside her and leans over the railing again, gusts of air swirling between them and whipping her hair all about.

“Everything seems so inconsequential up here,” she murmurs, her thoughts eerily similar to his own.

“It’s hard to care when you can’t put faces to names.”

“Like you could ever _not care_ ,” her tone colored with disbelief. Finally she glances at him and a frown crosses her features at what she sees. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but this —“ she motions to his eyebrows and with her fingers, “is starting to concern me.”

“What, my face?” he shoots back, going for levity as he leans into her. “My face concerns you?”

“You know what I mean,” she gives him a long suffering look. “Do you… uh… do you need to talk about it?”

Steve knows from the depth of his soul that it took everything in her to ask him that. He laughs, shaking his head. “Thanks, but I know the last thing you ever want to talk about is feelings.”

He tries to ignore her sharp exhale of relief as she turns to face him more fully. “Yes, but… you know that if you needed to, you could… talk to me.”

Turning to match her position with his arm braced on the rail, he watches her for a loaded moment, waiting for her to waver, which she never does. The only thing that happens is the breeze picks up and a cold gust sweeps around them, causing her to stiffen and him to quickly remove his coat. Without thinking he sweeps it around her shoulders, tugging her closer in the process, bringing her near enough that he can feel her breath.

“So next time I want to talk…" clutching the jacket at the opening, he pulls it shut and looks back up at her, offering a a thin smile, "about my feelings, you’ll be willing to listen?”

Inside he smirks, knowing that she’s immediately regretting her offer.

Opening her mouth to reply, it’s cut short when the far door opens behind him and Rhodey steps out onto the balcony with a very drunk WWII vet and several women. When Steve turns back to face Maria, she’s already stepped inside, sliding her hands through the arms of his jacket. 

Steve swallows hard and trails inside, his eyes frequently returning to her form until the party winds down and they settle for a poker game.

Even then, she barely interacts with him and he knows, _he knows_ he went too far.

And he would make something of it, if it weren’t for everything blowing up. 

_Again_.

 

.::.

 

She’s sitting in a board meeting back in New York, jotting down notes as Pepper engages the CFO in a debate over the quarterly finance report. None of this is of particular interest to Maria, clamping down on the impatience that’s festering. 

She has no less than three meetings left in the day with no end in sight regarding paperwork. A business trip to California and then China will round out her week and she has yet to pick up her dry cleaning or even finalize her itinerary.

Of course, that’s why she has an assistant, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that she doesn’t _already know_ these things and it leaves her unsettled. If there’s one thing Maria is without fail, it’s a planner. 

What is that saying about “When men plan…”?

Because as soon as the meeting concludes and she’s out the door she runs smack into Captain Freaking America. She nearly falls backwards if it weren’t for his giant hands steadying her around the hips. He removes his hands quickly as several people are still passing by and settles on grinning down at her instead.

“Wow, where’s the fire?” Steve asks as he turns with her, heading down the corridor toward her office.

“No fire. Just a lot to do and my unnecessary presence at meetings always creates a sense of wasted time.”

“Which is something you _hate_ ,” he states as her assistant hands over another set of folders and an apple. She raises an eyebrow at the fruit but her assistant merely returns her look purposefully as she nods in understanding and heads into her office.

“What can I help you with, Cap?” She tends to fall into his professional nickname at work, to maintain whatever shady sense of boundary that remains between them, fragile though it may be.

“Well, I uh… I’m requesting two, maybe three weeks leave from my Captain duties,” he states plainly, offering nothing other than an expectant look as he places his hands on the back of the guest chair in front of her desk. It takes her all of two seconds to surmise what this is about.

“You taking Sam with you?”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head at her as he nods. “Yeah. We’re going to Spain this time.”

“Spain?” she lifts an amused eyebrow at him. “Maybe you should finally learn how to dance while you’re there.”

“Hey, I know how to dance. Doesn’t mean I’m any good at it.”

“Nothing like a beautiful woman and the right music to prove you wrong,” Maria returns as she settles in her chair, opening the folder as she misses the shadow that crosses his features. “Sounds good Cap. Just email me your itinerary. Will you require a Quinjet?”

“No, we’re going the old-fashioned way this time,” Steve straightens as she glances back at him. “I understand _you_ will also be away?”

Maria tries not to stiffen his tone because she can tell he doesn’t believe her trip is just for work. “Yes. California, then China.”

Steve nods, crossing his magnificent arms. “Tell Coulson hello for me.”

Maria doesn’t reply, just twines her hands over her folder as her head falls to the side. “Be safe out there, Cap. It’d be a shame for me to have to come rescue you.”

“Likewise, Commander.”

 

.::.

 

It’s been over a month since their last exchange in her office. Steve’s journey took him from Spain to Ukraine and then Turkey, while Maria was on her business trips, until… until she wasn’t and he and Sam were called off their hunt for Bucky to provide reinforcement as Natasha and Clint extracted Maria from a research laboratory deep in the Siberian Tundra. 

Except Maria didn’t need a rescue, because she burned the whole damn thing to the ground and escaped with a helicopter and captured three HYDRA agents in the process.

When they all returned to the new Avenger’s facility, things were tense for a week or so. Not only because Maria went out on her own, but because she didn’t even let them know. Well, she let Natasha and Clint know, but Steve didn’t bother hiding his dismay at being kept in the dark.

“You were off on your own time, searching for Bucky, do you really think she’d pull you in for what she’d deemed a ‘stab in the dark’?” Natasha sits at the kitchen bar in the common area as he paces back and forth. “Listen, she had no idea it was going to turn into what it was. She received intel that was short fused and acted accordingly. Stop acting all butthurt and move on.”

“How can we be a team if she insists on acting outside of it?”

“Steve! She did what she had to do! If you can’t see that, then maybe you should talk to her about it.”

“I can’t. She’s back in California.”

“Not as of this morning.” Natasha sighs and stands abruptly. “Pull your head out of your ass for a minute and think about her perspective. Until you do, don’t talk to me, you’re just pissing me off.”

Natasha storms out, leaving him frowning in the silence. A minute later, he receives a group text from Tony, reminding the whole team that they have a fundraising gala that night at the Met. 

_Perfect._

Steve scowls, not wanting anything to do with glad-handing and rubbing shoulders with America’s wealthiest.

Much later that evening finds him an hour deep into making the rounds. He glances up and sees Maria standing next to a pillar, chatting with two tall Asian men. She looks utterly devastating in a one shouldered navy blue gown with lace cut-outs in strategic locations. He clenches his jaw and looks away, willing himself to stay in place.

It works for the duration of the evening, only raising a glass and nodding at her in passing, but little else because he can’t decide if he wants to spar with her or kiss her into oblivion.

Perhaps both.

Later, the team gets bum-rushed outside by both fans and paparazzi and they all opt to cram into the nearest Limo and set the driver off before the door is closed. There is buzz and chatter all around, but Steve can’t focus because he’s currently sitting beside the far door and has the entirety of Maria’s side pressed against his. He keeps his hands fisted tightly on his knees, knowing that if he isn’t careful, his hand will drop to her leg and slide up her thigh. 

They hit a pothole while making a turn and Steve frowns as he presses against Maria, grabbing the ceiling handle to prevent from squashing her.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, glancing over at her.

“It’s fine,” she whispers, caught in his gaze. Laughter from Pepper and Thor draws their attention, the moment broken. 

The rest of the ride Steve remains unable to relax, still torn between anger and desire. Slowly the limo empties out, leaving Maria and Dr. Cho left. 

“Capsicle?” Tony calls out as they gather outside the limo in front of Stark Tower. 

“I’m going to see the ladies home,” he replies as Maria shakes her head, scoffing. 

“Suit yourself,” Tony shrugs, shutting the door.

“You don’t have to —“ Maria starts as Dr. Cho laughs, interrupting her.

“Well, you can see _me_ home Steve. Maria’s much more independent than I am.”

Steve doesn’t know how to reply, but catches the way Maria’s jaw sets and knows anything other than silence is a bad idea. So he simply smiles and nods. 

“Did you have a good evening, Steve?”

Steve thinks about seeing his friends relaxing, happy. “I did. It was good to take a break. Those have become less frequent as of late.”

“I hear you,” she replies as she extends her legs, crossing one ankle over the other. “Maria, who was that man you were speaking with earlier? The rugged, handsome one?”

“An old friend from… when I was a Marine.”

“And he just happened to be here?” Dr. Cho raises a beautifully sculpted eyebrow. “Strange.”

“I thought so as well, until I learned he is running for Congress,” Maria’s hand straightens as she runs a nail over the hem of her skirt. It draws his gaze to the slit on the side facing him, how he gets a peak at creamy white thigh and the hint of — is that a garter?

“… and here’s my stop. Well, thanks for the ride home, Happy. See you two in the morning. Late, I hope,” Dr. Cho smiles as she steps out of the car, seemingly unaware of the tension between them as they bid her goodnight.

As the limo pulls away, Steve leans forward and pushes the button on the privacy setting, watching as the window frosts over and the music from the front drifts away.

“What are you doing?” Maria asks, immediately wary.

“We need to talk,” Steve replies, turning to face her, held tilting to the side. “What’s going on with you?”

Her gaze is steady as she replies smoothly, “Nothing.”

“Why won’t you talk to me anymore?”

“What’s there to talk about? 

“I don’t know, maybe about why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Avoiding you? I’ve been out of the country!” She frowns at him as she realizes his implication, eyebrows darting upward. “You think I took that assignment to get away from you!?”

“The timing sure seems to fit.” Steve faces her full on, pulling his leg into the seat with his thigh brushing against hers as he does so. The contact is just enough to make a faint blush take her cheeks as her anger sparks.

“Listen, I’m not sure what delusion you’re under, but my professional work calendar doesn’t hinge off your personal missions or who you’re dating, so stop now before you embarrass yourself.”

He flinches at her tone and words. Of course she’d find out about the date. She’s friends with Natasha, after all. It didn’t matter, he didn't want to go and the date was an utter waste of time anyway.

She turns away from him and crosses her arms, completely frozen. Steve frowns, realizing belatedly that he took the wrong approach entirely.

“No, that’s… that’s not what I was getting at, Maria,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair. “It’s just… you’ve been back for almost a week, _injured_ no less, and I didn’t even know about your shoulder until Natasha told me. I just… I wish you’d talk to me. Tell me how it went. The usual stuff.”

Maria bows her head and bites her lip, staring in to her lap. Steve lays his arm against the back of the seat, the tips of her hair playing against his wrist. He blinks at the contact, wishing he could pull out her hair pins and run his fingers through her hair. 

“It was a standard op,” she states stiffly, her shoulders still bunched near her ears. “I had four agents with me. We went in, made our targets, got out. End of story.”

“End of story?” he replies doubtfully. Unbidden, his thumb runs down her neck slowly, her eyes closing at the contact. “That’s it? How’d you get hurt?”

She sighs, biting her lip again, choosing her words carefully. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Didn’t move quick enough, got shot.”

Steve frowns at her clinical response, let’s his hand drop to her covered shoulder, just above where the wound is located. She flinches at the contact, but relaxes slowly as Steve slides his hand up to her neck again, his fingers settling along the curve of her neck. His touch is light as he curls his fingers against her skin, leaning his head forward until he presses against her temple.

He reaches out with his other hand for one of hers that are clenched in her lap, teasing it open until he can twine their fingers together. Pressing his lips against her jaw, he whispers his relief, “I’m so glad you’re okay. God, you’re so stubborn, d’you know that?”

She huffs out a laugh, her body unconsciously leaning into his as he feathers kisses along her cheek, her temple and back to her jaw before he releases her hand and cups her face, tilting her head toward him.

He’s so close to her lips that he can feel her intake of air as her eyes flutter shut, her hand falling to his thigh as his grip tightens on her neck, bringing her closer until he can brush his lips against her bottom one.

The Limo stops abruptly as she straightens, jerking back while Happy announces that they’ve reached her apartment. She pulls away to look up at him, her pupils blown dark and her breaths shallow. She swallows hard and squeezes his thigh once more, before removing herself from his grasp and exiting out the Limo.

As it pulls away, Steve sighs loudly and flops the whole of his body against the back of the Limo, completely dejected.

“So stubborn,” he mutters.

 

.::.

 

She’s sweaty. She’s sweaty and questioning herself every step of her way to Steve’s quarters in the Tower. She’s just left the gym where she was beating the proverbial shit out of a punching bag which firmly refused to agree with her thought process.

She stops in front of the door, and glances down the empty corridor, mentally reviewing what she needs to say, because this _thing_ they keep doing is absolutely _not_ working for her.

Before she can even bother to knock the door opens suddenly, revealing Steve, similarly dressed in work out gear. He looks stern and then immediately surprised as his eyes light on her.

“Maria wha—“

“I can come back if you’re—“

“No, please, come in,” he steps away, tugging her inside. And then the door shuts and they’re standing across from each other in his narrow entry, staring. Belatedly, she realizes, she should have showered before dropping by. She probably smells like someone who just ran ten miles and then pummeled the crap out of a punching bag, instead of some sort of field of sunflowers or whatev—

“What’s up?” he finally breaks the silence, flicking his gym towel over his shoulder and taking a swig from his water bottle. She watches the way his adam’s apple bobs and finds herself swallowing the stab of desire that shoots through her, weakly trying to quash this _undeniable something_ that's between them.

“I just…” she exhales, not liking the jumble of words that threaten to explode from her mouth. “You have to know that…” she shakes her head, biting her lip in frustration.

The act draws his attention from her eyes to her lips and she feels the temperature in the room sky rocket. Shaking her head, she tries to gain clarity.

Except it doesn’t work because he takes a step forward at the same time as she does and suddenly it’s a flurry of movement as she slots her mouth over his and licks his bottom lip, his mouth opening as she tastes his orange gatorade and _oh God_ he moans into her mouth. Before she knows it, he’s dropped his water bottle and pressed her against his door, one hand splayed against her back as he slides the other around the curve of her neck. 

She pushes up on her toes as he pulls her even closer, her own hands bunched in the fabric of his shirt, a raspy sound emerging from the back of her throat and _shit_ this is not what she came here to do, but his tongue is absolutely magical. When he presses her into the door again, his hand sweeps down over her buttocks, pulling her closer against him and they both make sounds of desperation before he lifts her off the ground, her hips bracketing his.

Her fingers scrape against his scalp as he presses kiss after kiss against her jaw, her neck, and the exposed part of her clavicle. She gasps when his teeth test out the skin at the juncture of neck and shoulder and she jerks his head back, pressing a fevered kiss against his lips. His hands have crept beneath her tank top and grip tightly against the damp skin of her back as she tilts her hips down just as he lets out a shuttering breath.

The sound of a door shutting down the hall outside startles them both as they stutter to a pause, gasping for air, foreheads pressed together.

Eventually, it’s Steve that breaks the silence, voice raspy and cheeks flushed. “What were you saying?”

Maria huffs out a breath, shaking her head as she takes in this moment before she says her piece. “I was coming here to say that you and me are a bad idea.”

She feels him stiffen, but he doesn’t step away, just clenches his jaw as he tucks some of her hair behind her ear. 

“It feels like a good idea to me,” he presses his intention against her and she sucks in a sharp breath.

“ _That_ isn’t the problem, it was _never_ the problem. What we do in our professional lives is the problem,” she presses against his chest, lowering herself to the ground. “If you and I started a relationship, I would have much more to lose than you. I’m just a woman who’s known for shady dealings with a secret organization and conspiracies of state. You? You’re a superhero. You practically shit rainbows and daisies.”

“That’s not fair. I thought you stopped holding that against me a while ago,” Steve replies, visibly willing himself to calm down. “Is that really what you’re afraid of? Or is it the fact that I _want_ you. All of you. Not just what you’re willing to share. I want your scars, your mistakes, and your dirty secrets. I want your laughter and that smile that still takes my breath away. I want to be there when you go to sleep and when you wake up and through good and bad days. Why can’t…” he sighs, running his hand through his mussed hair. “Why can’t we at least try?”

“What if we try, if we give it everything, and it doesn’t work?”

“Then it doesn’t work, but we won’t know until we try!” 

She takes a step back to somehow resurrect the walls he all but shattered. He frowns at her action, shaking his head.

“Maria, don’t… don’t do that, don’t shut me out. All I’m asking is for you to give us a shot. This is going to be hard, it’s going to be very hard. but I’m not going to ask you to give me anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

Maria puts her hands on her hips, tapping her index finger. Moments, dreadfully slow, pass as she deliberates. It’s really hard to think when he’s staring at her like that. “Let’s just… let’s start with dinner. See where it goes from there.”

His smile is so bright an so damn earnest that she can only roll her eyes as he beams at her, “Yeah? Dinner?”

“Sure.” Maria can already feel her resolve weakening as he gives her a look that could melt the polar icecaps. He takes another step forward, moving like a magnet but she holds up her hand.

“Nope, I’m gonna shower. You should…” she slips around him and picks up his towel and water bottle off the ground, tossing them his way. “You should head to the gym and work off all your pent up _tension_.”

Before she can step away, his hands wrap around her waist and he tugs her back to him. “Dinner’s at seven. Steak sound good?”

She nods, fighting her grin. “Medium-well. I’ll bring wine.”

Turning, she pecks a kiss against his lips and escapes with a glance back at the look of hope and promise in his eyes. 

“Maria?” She stops at the door as he walks up behind her, his voice low. “I never did get that dance in Spain… Couldn't find the right partner.”

“Guess I'll have to help you with that."

"I'll hold you to it."

 

.::.

 

_ fin _

**Author's Note:**

> Lot's of things were grabbed from Alicia Key's Un-thinkable (I'm ready) because I feel it describes them perfectly. Not only that, but I live for City and Colour's cover.
> 
> Thanks for reading and especially to those of you who comment.


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